


kiss it when he eat it

by howdoyousleep



Series: Daddy Steve Rogers/Baby Bucky Barnes [17]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, Feminization, Floor Sex, Gift Giving, Kink Exploration, Lace Panties, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Nipple Play, Office Sex, Panties, Rimming, Sexual Fantasy, Size Difference, Size Kink, Subspace, Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:08:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23868034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howdoyousleep/pseuds/howdoyousleep
Summary: When Steve brought home a beautifully-wrapped navy blue box one night after work he made this newfound ache inside Bucky grow almost infinitely. He had placed the box in Bucky’s lap with a kiss on the cheek, taking his seat next to the younger man on the couch, and watched with prematurely dark eyes as Bucky slipped the ribbons off its edges. Bucky’s sweet smile and tease of a tone both faltered when he unfolded delicate tissue paper to reveal—Oh.Oh my.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Daddy Steve Rogers/Baby Bucky Barnes [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1520792
Comments: 74
Kudos: 653





	kiss it when he eat it

**Author's Note:**

> This has been a long time coming but it's finally here. I'm back on my bullshit with my long-ass fics so I hope it's worth the length lmao.  
> I in no way intended for this fic to glorify hairless undercarriages. Body hair is cool. No body hair is cool. You do you. This is simply for the fantasy sexy times.  
> Un-beta'd! Enjoy!

The first time Steve calls Bucky’s asshole a “pussy” Bucky comes within seconds of the word falling from Steve’s mouth. He whispers it roughly into Bucky’s lips, telling Bucky how much he loves fucking into his _sweet pussy_ , two pairs of dark eyes locked together, and the noise that the younger man let’s out after a punched-out ” _Daddy!_ ” is a shout of shock, embarrassment, and arousal. No one had every referred to his ass as _that_ and it makes his gut and his chest damn near ache in desire and heat. Bucky was a strong man, had a dick, worked out, dressed well; he wasn’t supposed to find this sort of feminization arousing.

That first orgasm to Steve saying such filth left Bucky’s mind reeling, his chest heaving, wide eyes looking up at Steve and the big beefy blonde just smirked down at him knowingly and kissed his lips sweetly. Bucky wondered about himself and his sexuality, Steve’s sexuality, why he never wanted to hear Steve refer to his ass as anything but a _pussy_ again. It started this slow burn within his entire being and he felt like a giant walking question mark. Steve, of course, was very cognizant of the fact that Bucky had this new-found desire, this shocking new secret arousal, and he used it to work and tempt the younger man strategically.

When Steve would tell him he was _so sweet_ and call him _baby_ and _sugar_ it had a newfound meaning, a new burn, behind it. These names of adoration were not new but…they felt it. They felt different in Bucky’s mind and body. He was always sweet for Steve but now he felt bashful, blushing and giggling, preening under any attention Steve would give him. He bit his lip more and buried his face into Steve’s thick neck and learned how to bat his eyelashes like a pro, good for both pouting and sucking dick.

It took him a few weeks before he balled up all of his courage and used the word himself, sitting atop Steve’s thick thighs, riding him into tomorrow—" _Feels so good in my little p-pussy, Daddy, oh fuck_.” The noise that left Steve’s body sounded like it was punched out of him, obviously waiting patiently for Bucky to be ready to say the word himself. He felt powerful, _sexual_ , came to love and adore both his and Steve’s size and age difference even more. It made his desire for sex and heavy petting and affection grow significantly, Steve asking him what had gotten into him even though, judging by the sparkle in his eye, he already knew the reason behind this new fire.

When Steve brought home a beautifully-wrapped navy blue box one night after work he made this newfound ache inside Bucky grow almost infinitely. He had placed the box in Bucky’s lap with a kiss on the cheek, taking his seat next to the younger man on the couch, and watched with prematurely dark eyes as Bucky slipped the ribbons off its edges. Bucky’s sweet smile and tease of a tone both faltered when he unfolded delicate tissue paper to reveal—

_Oh._

_Oh my._

Under the tissue paper laid two pairs of extremely feminine black underwear, one seemingly satin and the other lace, and Bucky almost doubled over in arousal, body flaring up with heat. His hands reached out to carefully run his fingers along the edge of the box, nearly afraid to touch the undergarments, and he breathed out Steve’s name in shock.

“You like ‘em, honey?” Steve inquired in a low voice, hand coming to rest and rub at Bucky’s lower back, and the brunette’s eyes bounced between Steve’s face and the box in his trembling lap. He let out an embarrassingly desperate noise as his fingers unintentionally grazed the satin pair on top as Steve’s lips did the same to his temple.

“Why don’t you try a pair on, Buck. Show me how they look,” and _oh_ the thought of wearing women’s underwear for Steve, for _Daddy_ , feeling shockingly feminine, a dirty secret, made Bucky’s core throb, and he nodded his head as Steve kissed his cheek and sat back. Bucky bit his lip softly, retrieved the satin pair with shaky hands, and placed the box on top of the coffee table in front of them. He took a few seconds to appreciate and savor the feel of the undergarment in his hands, the silky fabric feeling like cool water flowing between his fingers. The feel of them was what Bucky could only describe as _intimate_ and knowing that he was about to put these underwear on his own body, feel them cradle his balls and hug his cock, it all made him let out a soft noise.

He stood, wanting his thoughts to morph into reality immediately, and pushed his sweatshorts to his feet, dragged his shirt over his head, both garments hitting the floor carelessly. He heard Steve exhale loudly beside him at seeing Bucky wearing nothing under his clothes and the younger man blushed lightly at the small acknowledgement. He rubbed the fabric between his fingers once more before he lifted lithe legs, one and then the other, and tantalizingly slid the underwear up his body.

_Oh._

Bucky had let out a soft moan, hands still grasping the waistband, and his eyelids had fluttered closed. Bucky couldn’t form a coherent thought, mind racing between how the garment felt holding and hugging him to why he hadn’t been doing this before that moment. He ran his hands down the front of the underwear, tucked his erection under the band, and moaned at the feel of his hands on his body over satin. On wobbly legs he slowly turned around to face Steve and let out a small noise as he locked eyes with the blonde.

“Oh, _sweetheart_. Look at you…” Steve cooed and Bucky damn near purred, his eyelids and neck feeling heavy, and his hands ran over the feel of the silk covering the front of his thighs once more. Steve scooted forward on the couch, big hands coming to rest on Bucky’s hips, rubbing in soothing circles, and Bucky gasped when he felt lips kiss his stomach soothingly. His gasp had turned into a high-pitched whine when the kisses on his stomach had trailed down to press hot kisses on his encased cock.

“So fuckin’ pretty, Buck. Can’t help myself,” Steve explained softly, Bucky barely registering his words as Steve mouthed over his erection more, hands squeezing at his sides. Bucky felt overwhelmed, overheated, at the sensation of feeling nearly twice of everything. The panties hugged his body, Steve hugged his hips. The silk was smooth on his skin, Steve’s lips were smooth on the new undergarment. Bucky whined when Steve’s hands ran around to grip his ass in his big palms, squeezing and kneading, still kissing over his erection.

“You feel good, honey? What’d you think?” Steve asked quietly as he pushed and pulled at Bucky’s body, rotating him to get a good look at his ass.

“S’good, Daddy, _so good_ ,” Bucky breathed, fingers curling into fists at his sides as he drowned in the sensation of Steve’s hands squeezing at his flesh, his ass, and then his front half was being pushed forward.

“Bend over, sugar. Lemme see.”

Bucky moaned as he bent at the waist, placed his hands on the coffee table in front of him, and spread his feet a few scoots apart, arching his back naturally. Steve let out an appreciative noise, running his palm against his ass cheek before bringing it down for one good _smack_. _Oh shit._ Bucky let his head drop forward, moaning through his bitten lip, soaking up the throb of the skin of his ass, the way the fabric of the panties soothed the burn of the smack. Bucky wasn’t mentally prepared for Steve’s next words:

“Does it feel good huggin’ that pretty cock, Buck? That sweet little pussy?”

Bucky shouted out a moan, fingers grabbing at the wood of the coffee table beneath him, Steve moaning as he kissed directly over Bucky’s hole over the satin. Bucky had felt light-headed, the intensity and eroticism of the moment verging on overwhelming, his knees trembling, and Steve was there to pull him back into his open lap. It was in that moment, writhing in Daddy’s lap while wearing ladies’ panties, that he truly accepted this piece of who he was. Nothing had ever felt more right to him, more right for his sexuality, more right for his relationship. Not only had he fully accepted this part of himself, but it was the hottest fucking thing he’d ever done.

Steve hadn’t even taken the panties off or pushed them to the side. He kept a hand wrapped around Bucky’s throat, the other hand rubbing and tugging at Bucky’s cock over the satin of the underwear, kissing and licking at Bucky’s neck, cheek, ear, and temple. His voice was low and breathy, his own fat cock hard underneath Bucky’s plush ass, and he talked the younger man to completion, encouraging Bucky to cream his panties as he tightened his grip on the column of his throat. Bucky had whined and sobbed and cried but never once was he hesitant or self-conscious; that part was over.

His journey of sexual self-acceptance has brought him to this point. To say he was nervous is a drastic understatement; he was petrified. It was a combination of nerves and excitement, but he was quite certain nothing would go wrong. In fact, this could only go very very right. Nonetheless, Bucky was nervous. He was nervous when he got dressed that morning, was nervous in class, was nervous on his way to Steve’s office. He was damn near vibrating out of his skin as he walked through the glass doors of Steve’s office building. And horny—he was _so_ horny. Steve had been gone for business for an entire fucking week, seven whole days, and he had gotten home so late last night that Steve all but fell asleep on his feet two steps within the front door. Bucky was able to get him to bed but Steve was up within hours to head to the office, leaving Bucky with a few sweet kisses and hushed wishes. Bucky missed Steve and wanted him, wanted his time and his attention and his love. He wanted his lips and his hands and his cock. He’ll get it all with this. Bucky’s been keeping a secret. Nothing big but…

Bucky got waxed.

Bucky got… _waxed_.

He isn’t a super hairy person to begin with, but he literally went into a spa and had a woman smear hot wax all over his body, slap that piece of paper on top of that, and rip it off all over his lower half; Bucky’s as smooth as he was the day he was born. He has to admit—he should have done this sooner. After the initial pain and swelling drifted away everything felt right with an enormous intensity. Wearing clothes felt completely different and in fact, the first time Bucky wore a pair of his panties after being waxed he ended up humping the bed and coming without even touching himself. He loved the feeling, the sensitivity, the secret, and he couldn’t wait to share this secret with Steve.

Lunch picked up on the way and in hand, Bucky made his way up to Steve’s office in one of the elevators. He knows Steve’s lunch time and he is aware that he may be busy, known to work through lunch, so some of Bucky’s nerves are reserved for being turned away and having to walk home. Two steel doors sliding open, a ding of a bell, and Bucky’s looking at the receptionist’s smiling face, her eyes warming once she recognizes Bucky.

“Bucky! How are you? I haven’t seen you in so long!” Darcy beams, voice genuine and smile bright. Bucky has liked Darcy from their first interaction and appreciates that Steve has someone so dependable and caring in his corner, a corner where Bucky can’t always be.

“I’m great, Darcy, thank you. I hope you’re well. Is Steve around?” He doesn’t even waste time, nervous and excited energy radiating from his core, hands shaking, and Darcy nods her head and says, “Of course. Go on and head back! He’ll be so happy to see you.” Bucky ducks his head and smiles a thanks, trying his hardest to ignore the knowing gleam in her eye as he walks around the large oval desk and down the hallway to the left. Panties and waxing aside, Bucky is genuinely excited to see Steve. They rarely go so long without seeing each other and this trip was exhausting for them both. Seeing Steve late last night and sleeping next to him was a tease and Bucky wanted more.

He stops at a set of heavy oak double-doors and gently rasps his hands across the surface, listening intently for a noise on the other side. He hears a disinterested, almost aggravated, “Come in,” and opens a door, squeezing in and letting it click shut behind him. He sneakily turns the lock with a shaky smirk before turning back around to find Steve standing at a long white table next to his desk, head down, papers in one hand, holding his cocked hip in the other. His ocean-blue eyes turn and flick up to Bucky before falling back down to the desk and Bucky’s chest tightens and damn near bursts when Steve does a frantic double-take and drops his papers.

“Buck,” he breathes with a soft laugh, grinning widely, and Bucky has to remind himself to inhale and exhale at the picture Steve makes, coming at him with open arms, adoration sweeping across his features. He’ll never understand what he did to deserve such a person in his life, such a partner and lover and boyfriend. It makes him so emotional he could shed tears, _has_ shed tears.

Bucky’s so caught up in watching Steve shorten the distance between them that Steve’s grabbing at him before he can react to it, pulling him into his chest with an open palm along his lower back, his other hand coming to curl around the nape of his neck. Bucky does what he can to hug back, one hand full of lunch, but his face naturally finds the crook of Steve’s neck, pushing his nose into it, arm wrapping around a strong lower back.

“What are you doin’, baby?” Steve murmurs into his temple, grin evident just by the way his mouth feels on Bucky’s skin, voice deep and curious. Bucky takes a moment to breathe Steve in, his warm, woodsy, natural scent, eyelids fluttering closed. _God,_ he’s missed Steve. He purses his lips in the gentle skin of Steve’s neck and replies, “Got a couple surprises for you,” adding in a quick, “Been missin’ you,” for good measure. Steve hums into his temple.

“Oh?”

“Mhmm. Brought lunch among…among other things,” Bucky states, mumbling into Steve’s broad shoulder. _God,_ he could spend hours giving these shoulders attention: kissing and rubbing and nipping and touching. They’re the shoulders that lift Bucky off the floor like he is light as a feather. They’re the shoulders that Bucky tucks himself into on lazy Sundays to take naps. They’re the shoulders Bucky finds himself biting and bearing down on when Steve sides his thick cock—

“ _Oh?_ ” Steve purrs, grip tightening all over Bucky’s body, and Bucky knows right then they won’t even touch lunch. Steve’s voice is so low and deep in his ear, his hands greedy. He’s walked through the door not even three minutes ago and he’s already falling apart at the seams, so satisfied that he’s not the only one desperate for his boyfriend. Bucky’s so giddy all he can do is nod his head, Steve running thick fingers through his hair, tugging on it to pull his head back, lips chastely touching his repeatedly, corner to corner.

“So fuckin’ sweet, Buck,” Steve murmurs, eyes crinkling in the corners as he grins, and Bucky feels his face flush at the small compliment. Steve pulls away, Bucky feeling like his soul is achingly following him as he turns and takes the bag in Bucky’s hand, walking it over to his office’s sitting area. Bucky follows, Steve stopping by his desk to ring Darcy, asking her to screen his calls and not let anyone into his office. _Oh._ The power makes Bucky weak all over.

“Are you going to make me wait or can I know what my surprises are now?” Steve asks in an amused tone, taking a seat on the couch, placing the lunch on the table in front of him. Bucky finds himself marveling at the picture Steve makes in person, in front of him, actually here. It must be a day that Steve isn’t expected to be in the office.

He looks casually powerful, unassuming yet most definitely alpha-male. His thin tan sweater hugs his chest like it was painted on and the same goes for his dark jeans. Don’t even get Bucky started on _those thighs, fuck._ Bucky swallows. Normally he would make Steve wait, draw it out and tease, eat some lunch, but he isn’t entirely sure if he could even sit through lunch with Steve looking the way he does and Bucky feeling the way he does.

So, he doesn’t make them wait. He’s standing in front of Steve and the curious expression written across his face, and he brings his dexterous fingers up to the button on his jeans, grabbing at the denim slowly with fingers on both hands. He stills there, watching Steve’s neutral expression as he brings a hand up to rub at his bearded chin softly.

Steve asks quietly, “What’s the surprise, sugar?” voice level and calm, the complete opposite of how Bucky feels in this moment. His brain feels like it’s vibrating, his hands tremble, and Steve is anything but transparent. Steve is so good at waiting things out and not letting Bucky know how he feels. That’s part of the reason they’ve worked out that Steve needs to be more verbal for the kind of needy person Bucky is. Sometimes though Steve will use it to put Bucky on edge, to make him feel uneasy or humiliated in the way he sometimes desires.

Steve’s neutral face makes Bucky slightly hesitant, but he powers through, knowing this will all be worth it, that Steve will be so happy and think Bucky is so good. Bucky’s fingers lower the zipper on his pants as Steve’s eyes follow his movement.

“I did something. Something that I’m nervous about. Something that…that I think you’re going to like,” Bucky says softly, opening the fabric of his pants enough for Steve to take note of his choice in underwear, his eyes flicking up to Bucky’s quickly. Steve’s mood, his aura, his demeanor all change at the notice of sheerness and color, Bucky biting his bottom lip as Steve licks his own, thighs widening in the cushion of the seat. Bucky wants to drape himself across those powerful thighs.

“Thank you for being honest with me, sweetheart,” Steve says and Bucky’s eyelids flutter at the light praise, a hum bubbling out of his mouth. He hasn’t had Steve like this in so long and it’s so obvious; Bucky’s so easy. Bucky’s so easy _for Steve_.

“You got somethin’ to show me under there, Buck?” Steve asks after Bucky gets caught up in his own thoughts, fingers still resting on his fly. Steve’s question immediately makes Bucky bite his lip, his face flush, and he nods his head in such a bashful fashion that he knows it makes Steve’s chest ache and his pants tighten. “You can’t get shy on me now, sugar. You come up to my office in the middle of the day unzipping your pants and showin’ me your pretty panties and then don’t want to show me? Gettin’ all bashful?”

Steve’s voice is low and rough and it washes over Bucky like warm honey, easing into his veins and down the back of his neck. Steve is such a cultured and poised man and Bucky gets such a thrill from being the special one that gets to hear his shortened Brooklyn-fueled rants, sexual or not. He loves to hear those deep bitten-off words like he’s straight off the streets and trying to start a fight. He makes a small noise, tucking his chin and looking up at Steve through his lashes.

“Come on, baby. Show Daddy what you brought him,” and Bucky can’t deny him, not when he looks so powerful and handsome sitting there with his legs spread wide and he’s looking at Bucky like the prettiest present has just been dropped into his lap. It almost makes Bucky want to giggle. What an effect Steve has on him.

Bucky is pushing the fly of his pants open, drawing the zipper down in a slow motion, a tease, pushes the waistband of his pants down and over his crotch. He watches his own movements, watches as the front of his thong becomes more and more visible, the sheerness of the maroon panties showing his half-hard cock off beautifully. It makes him a little more breathless himself, such a sight not to be seen in an office as this, makes him wonder what must be going through Daddy’s mind.

When he looks back up at Steve it almost makes his knees give out. Daddy has never looked hungrier, eyes dark and mouth dropped open an inch, looking like he’s going to shove Bucky back onto the floor and tear him apart in the best way. What a thought.

“ _Buck…_?” Steve asks quietly, a quizzical yet gruff edge to his question. Steve knows what these are, he knows what’s peeking out of Bucky’s jeans, and Daddy’s immediate reaction makes the younger preen, makes him feel more confident with his decision. It’s been so long since he’s had Daddy and he knows he made a risky yet appropriate decision; he just needed the green light.

He chooses not to verbally answer Steve, unsure of what he would say anyway, and moves to finally push the waistband of his pants down and ever so slowly over the curve of his bare ass. He feels a little scared, a lot dirty, taking his pants off in Steve’s office, the cooler breeze on his skin making him shiver. He didn’t think he had any expectations on how Steve would react, but he realizes that was a lie because when Daddy lets out a hefty groan, one that sounds like it’s clawing its way out of his chest, he startles.

Steve doesn’t utter an actual word though, eyes roving, so Bucky moves to lift his shirt a little, show Daddy more, jeans held up by the bottom curve of his ass just enough. He’s hard, _how could he not be,_ erection visible through the sheer front of the thong, and when he moves to adjust his dick, Steve lets out a mixture of a chuckle and a moan.

“ _Fuck_ , Bucky. _Baby…_ ” he purrs, disbelief evident in his tone, leg twitching, hand rubbing over his chin. Bucky can’t help but duck his head again and he isn’t sure of what to do until Steve is croaking out, “ _Lemme see all of it_.”

He feels the familiar flare of his cheeks move south to his neck, the heat of arousal a physical thing, and he gives himself a minute once-over before turning slowly to his left. It’s awkward, his pants barely pushed down, resting below his ass but awkward isn’t on his mind when he knows Daddy is drinking in and appreciating every detail of his panties and the panties on his body.

He opted for simplicity and preference. He knows that Daddy likes to see lighter colors on his body but those are for different times, for softer times, which is why he chose a dark maroon color. The sheerness is for the tease, for showing Daddy his arousal, and it’s also more feminine. Bucky likes that. He also likes the delicate little bows sewn onto the sides at his hips, another feminine feature.

He continues turning until he’s no longer facing Steve, and he bites his bottom lip, pulls it between his teeth hard, when he hears Steve’s rumble. Bucky isn’t the most confident person, but he knows his ass doesn’t quit in these panties, looks like a ripe little peach that hopefully Daddy can’t wait to dig into. There’s a string pulled taught between his ass cheeks, bottom on full display, knows that the pieces of fabric are tugged up and frame his hips beautifully. Quite honestly, Bucky feels so very confident in them, feels like a little bit of a tease, more sensual than he possibly ever has, and to know that there is another secret for Daddy underneath _this_ secret makes him have to bite his bottom lip yet again to stifle his giggle.

By the time he turns back around to face Steve, Daddy is leaning forward, elbows on his knees as if he’s ready to pounce and Bucky is barely on two steady feet before there are hands on his hips and lips on his stomach. Steve’s pushing at his jeans, forcing them down his legs, not in a rushed movement but there is a fire behind it, an urgency. His lips feel like fire on Bucky’s stomach, his sternum, blazing a messy path of open-mouthed kisses on his skin.

“Off, Bucky, _off_ —get these off, _holy_ …” Steve demands, voice gravelly and deep, pushing down at Bucky’s jeans and up at his shirt, and the younger mewls, a soft desperate noise. He hadn’t thought past the moment of showing Daddy what was hiding under his jeans, hadn’t truly considered what would happen next because of how focused he was on _this_ moment. He hadn’t thought about how Steve would want him to strip right here in his office, hadn’t thought about the effect that would have on his mind.

Bucky pushes his shoes and socks off in somewhat of a blur, toes them off and then moves to rip his shirt over his head, tosses it in a forgotten manner to the side. Steve’s hands are _everywhere_ , on his hips and his sides, finally swooping around to squeeze tight at his ass, both hands kneading at the fatty flesh there, and it makes Bucky whimper. It’s feels better than he imagined it would, Daddy’s hands big, his fingers squeezing in tight, makes him forget about that second surprise with a gasp.

“ _Daddy_ ,” he whimpers, half in vocalizing his pleasure and half to get his attention, but his plea is ignored. Instead, Steve pulls him forward, makes him stumble and fall into Daddy’s lap, straddling those thick thighs in a movement that makes him feel a little like a slut. What a sight they must make: Steve fully clothed in casual business wear while a boy only donning a thong squirms in his lap. It makes Bucky’s dick twitch, his gut roll.

“ _Bucky,_ sugar. You’re tryin’ to kill Daddy? Huh?” Steve asks in a hushed but clipped tone, the tone he uses when he’s highly effected by the decisions Bucky has made, when he knows Daddy is hard. He can feel it too, feel Steve’s straining cock underneath his bottom, underneath the thin fabric of his panties. His front is pressed in tight against Daddy’s chest, a thick arm wrapped around his waist, and Bucky whines, his hands slipping to Steve’s shoulder, his neck.

“Haven’t had my hands on you in almost a week and you wanna show up to my office in somethin’ pretty and delicate, somethin’ that I’m gonna feel bad ruinin’? Huh, Buck? That your plan, sugar?”

Bucky makes a pitiful noise, shakes his head, “No, Daddy just…just wanted to surprise you,” he murmurs and it makes Steve groan, a hefty noise, one that he lets out into the skin of Bucky’s neck before his lips are seeking his out. It’s been so long since he’s had Steve like this, since he’s kissed him in such a demanding way, since he’s had Daddy’s hands gliding everywhere, so grabby.

“What a fuckin’ surprise, baby, _fuckin’ look at you_ —all wrapped up for Daddy. You’re so sweet, Buck.” Steve’s praise rolls down his spine like a warm shower, makes him want to shiver, makes his hips twitch forward some.

“ _Fuck,_ this ass, Bucky,” Steve marvels with a chuckle, squeezes at his cheeks with both hands, cracking his palm up across one globe in a startling movement. Bucky gasps, moans at the sting, the pulse of pain. Steve’s teeth nip at his jawline, his chin, before he reaches a hand between their bodies, rubs at Bucky’s cockhead through his panties.

_Oh._

“Prettiest little thing in the whole wide world, wrappin’ your sweet pussy up for Daddy to take apart, all for himself like a goddamn present.”

Bucky squeals meekly, can’t fucking help it, drops the noise right there onto Daddy’s lips for him to drink up in a satisfied noise. He pulls his hips back in a jerk only to roll them forward in a filthy movement, lets the line of his body stretch out as he straightens and lets his head fall back some. Daddy plays with his cock, just little rubs and smears of precome, right through the fabric of his underwear, and Bucky shivers with the wave of lust that swoops over his form, rolls his body a few more times.

“ _Daddy,_ D-Daddy I—”

“ _Mmm_ yeah, sugar.”

“Steve, t-there’s…there’s somethin’ else…”

That gets Steve to stop, gets him to peer up at Bucky through his lashes, gets the fingers on his dick to slide around and cup his hips. Bucky gets a soft kiss to his lips and an equally soft, “ _Buck?”_ , tries to not get swept away by the feeling of Steve’s big hands kneading a bit roughly at his hips, his sides.

“I uh…” Bucky starts, swallowing and looking away from Steve’s eyes, “I went to uh…to a spa.” Steve kisses at his chin, a small purse of his lips, hums.

“D’you have a nice time?” Steve asks and leave it to him to be concerned and interested in Bucky’s experience at a spa and not on what he might be doing there. The anticipation might just kill him, makes him clench his smooth little hole around nothing, makes him imagine Daddy fucking into it, _what he’s been thinking about for days_.

“Mhmm, I…um, I g-got,” he can’t even get it out, is choking on his words, knows Steve’s eyes are on him. _Fuck it._

“ _I got waxed._ ”

He meets Steve’s eyes then, glances at him from out of the corner of his eyes with his head turned, and it’s obvious Steve doesn’t understand right away. He’s still smirking up at Bucky, his hands grabby and greedy, and Bucky can see and _feel_ the moment it all just… _clicks_. Steve’s brows crease together a little, his hands slow their movements to stop at the top of Bucky’s ass, Steve looking at him in somewhat of a demanding way. Bucky wants to whine, swallows down a small whimper, digs his fingers into Steve’s neck some.

“ _Look at me_ ,” is what Steve ends up saying after a few moments of unbearable silence, voice barely above a whisper, knows he doesn’t need to physically do anything to get Bucky listen to him but that doesn’t mean it’s easy for Bucky to meet those eyes. He squirms a bit in Daddy’s lap, whimpers pitifully before turning his head to meet Steve’s eyes.

He’s barely breathing, Steve looking at him with a seemingly neutral expression and if it weren’t for Steve’s mouth dropping open some and the raging erection underneath Bucky’s bottom, he’d have no idea Daddy was so effected.

“You got waxed?” Steve asks and Bucky feels his face flood with color, his neck heat up, his cheek burn. When Daddy says it, it makes him want to bury his face into the older man’s neck, makes him want to hide, but Steve clicks his tongue. He coos a little bit, rubs his nose along Bucky’s in a comforting gesture, gets him to meet Daddy’s eyes again.

“Y-yeah, yeah I…I got waxed.”

Steve hums at his words, a little deeper than the previous hum, and his hands come back to life, slide up and squeeze at his sides.

“Yeah? Y’got waxed where?” Bucky can’t help it, can’t help the little _“Oh”_ that slips from his lips at the prompt of a question.

“If you did what I think you did, sugar you better say it out loud.”

Bucky seems to be full of whimpers tonight, full of meaningless noises of humiliation, lets out another whine, a huff of a pout. He knows what he did, Daddy knows what he did, and yet he can barely utter the words, knows Daddy wants to hear _those words_. Steve closes the small distance between them, brushes their lips together, eyes locked to Bucky’s, knows Steve wants to watch him as he says them.

“I…I got my p-pussy waxed, Daddy…”

Steve lets out an exhale that resembles a growl, leans forward and takes Bucky with him, sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. Bucky’s thighs can’t help but reflexively clench tight around Steve’s waist at the sudden movement, can’t help but mewl into the filthy wet kisses Daddy gives him. Steve’s grip is so tight on his ass his thick fingers nearly graze his soft taint, his sensitive hole.

“Did you now? That sweet little pussy all soft and smooth?” Bucky’s gut rolls, molten and thick with arousal and he nods his head, lips grazing Daddy’s as he does so, gives a squeak of an, _“Uh-huh.”_ Steve lets out another exhale, a heavy one, bites his words out through clenched teeth—

“And who’d you do all that for?”

Bucky’s sure he’s leaking through the front of his panties at this point.

“I did it for y-you, Daddy. This p-pussy is all…s’all soft and smooth for you.”

And it’s as if Steve’s reaction makes the wait and the anticipation almost worth it, makes the build grow into this immense crescendo of a moment. There have been few times where Bucky has witnessed a break in Steve’s composure, where he can see and feel and hear Daddy’s franticness, and this tops those moments.

Daddy’s eyes gleam and where Bucky could barely look him in the eyes a few seconds before he can’t bear to tear his eyes away from Steve’s now. Daddy _snarls_ , lets out the hungriest noise to date, startles Bucky at the force of it before he sweeps a hand up the line of Bucky’s spine.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ _kill me_ , Buck,” he growls, licking into Bucky’s mouth, hand gripping the back of his neck, other hand moving to pinch at Bucky’s nipple tightly and _oh_ that makes him cry out, makes him sob into Daddy’s mouth. His head spins, so many sensations, _feeling so much_ , and then Daddy is pushing at his hips, off his lap. He scrambles, his feet hitting the floor, hands reaching forward to steady himself before Steve leans back a little with a wipe of his hand over his mouth.

“ _Show me._ ”

Bucky stands there dumbly.

 _Show_ Steve? Like…?

Daddy reaches forward and smacks at his hip in a bite of a move, makes Bucky gasp.

“ _Show…me._ ”

He doesn’t know why hearing it the second time is so different but when it clicks Bucky whimpers, watches as his own erection jumps in his panties, sees the darker stain pool on the front. He fidgets some, tries to buy time while his mind races with what to do. No matter what he chooses, it will be more than a little humiliating, but Daddy sits there with his chest heaving and his eyes eager and he has no choice but to begin to turn around on shaky legs, circling his hips around slowly.

There is absolutely no reason why he should be nervous to show Steve anything on or any part of his body. Steve is more familiar with these parts of him than he is himself but that doesn’t stop Bucky’s hands from shaking, his heart from racing. He doesn’t even stop to think, simply moves, knows that if he stops, he’s going to psych himself out, and at the root of all of this he just wants to be good for Daddy.

Warm hands grip his hips very lightly, one and then the other, a reassuring gesture, and Bucky drops at the waist, bends forward and splays his hands down on the coffee table in front of them. His brain immediately flits over to the very first time he put on women’s underwear, in such a similar position as this one, and he can’t help but feel a sense of pride. This was his choice, his doing, his initiation. He is taking ownership of this feminine side of himself that he has grown to love a little more each day. It feels a little like coming full circle, of the complete acceptance of this new addition to himself.

Bucky is a little less nervous now that that positive thought washes over him, relaxes his form. He is less nervous but that still doesn’t stop the humiliated mewl he lets out when Steve takes it upon himself to crack his hand down onto one of Bucky’s ass cheeks before taking them both in his hands and _spreading him wide_.

Bucky doesn’t breathe, _can’t breathe,_ needs oxygen but _fuck it_ , can’t even hear Steve breathing, no more audible heave of his chest. The silence drags on for what feels like _hours_ and it’s awful, unbearable, makes him dig his fingers into the surface of the table, needs to feel something. He then detects one of Steve’s fingers slide down, hook the single string of coverage he has, and he pulls it to the side. Bucky bites his lip, god fucking forbid he make another disgruntled noise, cheeks burning at the knowledge of Steve quite literally and openly staring at Bucky’s hairless asshole.

“ _Oh, Princess,”_ Steve finally purrs, and it makes Bucky’s toes curl, his teeth ache, makes his next long exhale come out as a whine, high and feminine from the back of his throat. _Princess_ does him in every goddamn time, makes him feel like the prettiest little peach, the cutest little bunny, makes him want to be so sugary sweet for Daddy it makes him begin to unravel. He’s so swept up in his visceral reaction to a cute pet name that he doesn’t even think about what Steve will do next so when he feels a fingertip, two fingertips, brush and softly circle around his hole, he _squeals._

“ _Baby,_ ” Daddy coos, fingertips light and unrushed as they swirl, “Oh, baby you’re so sensitive, aren’t ya? Look at this pretty pink hole.” Bucky spreads his feet apart some, lets his head hang forward as he’s overcome by the shocking difference between the sensation of this compared to what he’s used to. All he can do is whimper, choke on his sob, in response, wants so many different things but overall just wants—

“ _Daddy_ …”

“Uh-huh, sugar know just what you need, know what this pretty pussy needs. _Fuck,_ Bucky look at’chu, look what you’ve gone and done for Daddy. This princess pussy all for me? Huh? All smooth for Daddy?” Bucky barely registers the hands gripping his hips tight, sends a silent little prayer up that they hold on tight, because Bucky doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stay conscious. Steve’s big fingers rub in a tight little circle once more and swipe down Bucky’s balls in a sensual thrill before he feels hot breath on his taint.

He gets out a short, “ _Da—”_ right before Steve lets out his own moan, pressing a hot open-mouthed kiss directly over Bucky’s little hole, hands going tight on his hips. And it’s just a kiss, _it’s just a kiss,_ but it wrecks Bucky, makes him choke on his frantic breaths, makes him want to pull away yet push back into Daddy’s face. He’s so sensitive, feels Daddy like he’s never felt him before, whines right alongside Steve’s groans as he kisses at skin smooth like silk.

“ _Sugar,_ oh…oh god, baby oh yeah, Jesus _fucking_ Christ,” Steve mumbles into the kisses he peppers all around Bucky’s ass, his hole, his taint, biting hungrily at a cheek before squeezing them with both palms yet again. Daddy’s lips are smooth, always soft, and they feel like absolute bliss gliding along Bucky’s newly-smooth skin but Daddy’s tongue is the true gift. Bucky’s never felt anything like it, and it is in that moment, when he feels Daddy’s tongue sweep deliciously up and over his needy hole, that he decides he always wants to be waxed.

Because the feeling of Daddy working him over with that talented tongue has him biting out a curse as his eyes roll back into his head, has him swaying forward some, unsteady on his own hands and feet. It has Steve pushing at his hips, his back, has him gritting out, “ _Down,_ Buck—on the coffee table, baby. Can’t even…need to—,” and he moves like water, collapses down across the wood of the table, turns his cheek into the cold surface and braces for Steve’s next move. But no amount of bracing could prepare him for Daddy’s hungry mouth to meet his equally hungry hole.

It’s like he’s never felt Steve’s mouth on his asshole before, like it’s the first time feeling Daddy take him apart with his lips and his tongue. He fights between the urge to stay still and _feel_ and the desire to squirm and press back and _feel more._ Steve’s hands make the decision for him, spreads his cheeks wide and hold him in place where he wants Bucky. Daddy’s tongue is so slippery, _so talented_ , is slow but purposeful, quite obviously soaking in and exploring these new changes.

“Goddamn, sugar this is… _ngh_ this is somethin’ else,” Steve rumbles in between kisses before fluttering his tongue around Bucky’s hole in a way that has his toes curling, has him tilting his hips up and back, _wants more._ Daddy is hungry, is greedy, moans as he flicks his tongue, as he rubs his lips along such smooth and sensitive skin. Steve’s beard adds to the heady sensation of being fucked by Daddy’s mouth, soft trimmed hairs making him let out little punched out noises, little grunts.

Bucky lets out a garbled noise at the sensation of being so _wet_ , of Daddy’s spit having nowhere to go or pool, no option left but to slide down his taint to his balls, Steve slurping and chasing it in a rushed movement. It has Bucky _shouting,_ has him unknowingly mumbling, “ _Pussy’s s’wet,”_ , has Steve groaning in response.

“Fuck yeah it is, baby. This sweet little pussy is leakin’ for Daddy, isn’t it?” Bucky is finding that he has to fight to keep his eyes open, has to fight to respond, feels like he’s a little underwater. He hasn’t floated in a long time and being so sensitive coupled with not having dropped in so long is going to push him there fast if Steve keeps this up.

Steve’s thumb pressing in tight against his taint has him letting out a sob, has his head twisting against the tabletop, has one of Daddy’s hands running up the length of Bucky’s body to grip the back of his neck harshly. Daddy doesn’t even say anything, curls his thumb around in a rough circular motion, jabs his tongue in deep slow movements, hot open-mouthed kisses following every other tongue fuck. It feels too fucking good, _so good_ , makes Bucky’s gut curl in that familiar coil, that hot twist in his balls.

“ _Daddy,_ ” Bucky tries but it’s weak, a whimper of a noise, he can’t get it out in the frantic manner to match how it sounds in his head. Bucky can hear the lewd messy sounds of Daddy’s mouth on his cunt, can feel the warmth of his face in reaction, tries again.

“ _Daddy_! Daddy m’gonna come, oh f-fuck m’gonna come, please I—”

Bucky can hear the ghost of the scream he wants to let out in his head but the only thing that becomes vocalized is a heave of a gasp when he feels Steve’s hand slip into his panties and grip tight around the base of his cock. Said grip is damn near painful, leaves Bucky squirming and letting out guttural noises, a squeal when Daddy bites at the top of his ass. Tears spring to his eyes in frustration, _he was so close_ , is struggling to center himself, sobs some more when he feels the warm length of Daddy’s front press against his back.

“This pussy doesn’t fuckin’ come unless it’s on Daddy’s cock, you hear me, Buck?”

Steve’s hand on his cock gives him one last solid squeeze, takes the air right out of Bucky’s lungs as his eyes roll a little more at Daddy’s words. He manages to nod his head weakly, wants that, wants to come on Daddy’s cock, is his favorite way to come. Steve gives him a loud wet kiss on the cheek before squeezing his ass one more time, patting that little piece of fabric back over his slick hole.

“You stay right there, Princess.”

Bucky nods his head again, gives Daddy a little, “ _Uh-huh,”_ and feels his cheek get a little wet with saliva he hadn’t realized was slipping from the corner of his mouth. He also hadn’t realized his fingers were digging into the edge of the table, knuckles white, arms pressed in tight against his side. He feels vulnerable yet safe, always safe with Daddy, but this is different; they’ve never experienced this together. That fact alone lays heavy in his gut, in his core, this feeling of newness hot and tingly.

He can hear Steve rummaging in his desk, hears his heavy footsteps make their way back to Bucky. He hums when Steve’s big hand sweeps down his back, when he feels soft lips on his neck, on his back following the hand.

“How y’feelin’, Buck? You feel good?” Steve asks in a warm tone with an edge of something different too it, almost franticness or eagerness. Bucky takes the time to answer, hits all those points of self-check-in as Steve has taught him, hums.

“M’good, really good. Wanna come, I…m’so sensitive and achy.” Steve groans.

“Yeah, sugar how could y’not be sensitive? You’re always feelin’ so much but now? _Oh, baby_ that pussy is almost too sweet,” Steve’s voice is like a lullaby to Bucky’s ears and his mind, makes a smile tug on his lips some, makes his eyelids heavy. He hears the pop of a cap, instinctively raises and tilts his hips back like a little slut, likes the way it feels, likes how exposed and sexy he feels. Daddy purrs at the sight, at Bucky physically asking to be filled, at the sight of his boy pussy on display and wrapped up in string and bows and sheer fabric.

Bucky can still feel Daddy’s spit on his hole, can feel the slickness and the difference in temperature from the rest of his body, it making him shiver. Steve doesn’t really give him a heads-up or a warning aside from the warm hand on his side before he slips the tip of a finger passed Bucky’s rim, around the string of his panties, inside. Bucky whines, a high and throaty noise, and Daddy doesn’t stop, presses his finger in and in and—

“ _Fuck,_ Buck how’s that feel? Huh? You good, baby?”

Bucky is better than good. If this one finger feels like this, feels so big and so thick and so… _immense_ , he almost worries for himself for when Daddy finally slides home.

“ _Mhmm_ , m’good, Daddy yeah _yeah_ ,” he breathes as his dick jumps against the front of the panties, taking his time and licking his lips as he clenches around Steve’s finger, already wanting more. It’s like silk, like velvet, Bucky wanting to ride the sensation of softness and newness into the evening hours. Daddy pumps his finger a few more times, simply warming Bucky up, before Bucky feels the press of a second fingertip alongside the first.

“You put anything in this pretty pussy while I was gone, sweetness? You touch your princess parts and wish it was Daddy?” Steve’s voice is hot and low, washes down Bucky’s spine as if he were actually breathing into his skin, breathing air into his lungs. Bucky whimpers, shakes his head.

“No, Daddy no— _nothin’_. Saved it for you.” That pleases Steve, makes the older man groan out a chuckle in disbelief, makes him groan in unison right alongside Bucky as his second finger slides slowly home. This addition makes Bucky choke on his next few breaths, makes him deepen the arch in his back some, has him wanting Steve’s palm to press against the front of his panties.

“That’s sweet’a you, sugar, savin’ it all for Daddy, look at’chu—sweeter n’sugar.” Bucky preens at Daddy’s words, his lips pulling up in the corner, makes him respond with an equally sweet sigh of, “ _Daddy…”_ and is rewarded with the pull out and press in of thick fingers. Said fingers are slick, probably moreso than necessary, Daddy using extra lube, but Bucky loves it, loves feeling all wet and smooth. It makes him want to be fucked.

“ _Daddy,_ please,” Bucky begs, not above it, whining his plea out in a long and pathetic mewl. He turns his head to face forward, chin digging into the hard surface of the table, and it must make an appetizing sight because Daddy’s other hand is soon sliding through his hair, gripping it tight at the roots. It makes his neck strain some, makes him sob at the feeling of pain mixing with the sensation of Steve’s fingers pressing tight into his sweet spot.

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, his only response being his eyes rolling up and back, entire body clenching around the sensation of being so thoroughly taken apart.

“ _Fuck_ , honey you’re gaggin’ for it aren’t ya?”

Bucky’s gonna come. It hits him like a freight train, makes him gasp heavily once, twice, makes him choke out a variation of Steve’s name as he scrambles for the table’s edge. The fingers inside of him are pulled out slowly but do not return, the hand in Bucky’s hair gets pulled a little tighter, maybe to give him something else to focus on, he isn’t sure. He’s hysterical, admits it and feels it all over, doesn’t know if he wants to come or if he wants to hold off, but either way the decision is not his own, is rarely his own.

“You’re alright, sweetheart,” Daddy whispers in his ear, voice molten, seeps into Bucky’s bones, to his core. Bucky hears himself making small noises, wills away his orgasm, fights it with every fiber of his being, struggles in Daddy’s grip. He feels the heavy presence of Steve’s front pressed against the line of his back, hand still in his hair, breathes Daddy in as the first wave of tension passes through his body.

“There ya go, sugar such a sweet little thing for Daddy, so good.” The words are sweet and they pass like honey over Bucky’s neck, down his spine, make him hum out a low groan. Daddy is still talking, murmuring nonsense into his ear, soothing words that roll over his hectic mind to make it less chaotic, but his hands are still moving. Lips scorch a path up his neck at the same time he hears a zipper, a _pop_ of a cap, can feel Daddy’s hand fumbling around behind his ass. He knows what it means, makes him whimper out a pathetic, “ _Daddy!”_ , makes him grow a little hysterical again.

“ _Mhmm_ , sugar know you’ve been waitin’ for this, been waitin’ for Daddy to make these princess parts feel so _good_ , baby,” and the agreement Bucky goes to give turns into a wet gasp when he feels the slick head of Daddy’s cock press against his hole. It already feels so different, a little more added sensation, a delicious pressure, and then—

_“Fuck, Daddy…”_

It feels different, _so different_ , and Bucky doesn’t know how such a minute change can bring on such a substantial difference in sensation. Daddy doesn’t stall, doesn’t draw things out, pushes and presses in, and Bucky wants to weep at how _close_ he feels to Steve. He hadn’t anticipated this, feeling Steve in such an intimate way, feeling every ridge and vein and curve of Daddy’s cock. He’s being _fucked_ , being fucked in a way he’s never been, and when Steve presses his hips tight into the curve of Bucky’s ass, he _sobs_.

The hand in his hair turns into a soothing one, glides through his locks the same way Steve’s coos glides down his shoulders, down his back.

“Bucky, _baby_ …” Steve starts, a little breathless and a little dark, lips pursing at Bucky’s cheek as his head is turned and laid lightly down onto the table. The feeling of Steve’s sweater on his bare back is soft and soothing whereas the denim of Steve’s jeans digging into the back of his thighs, his ass, makes him hiss a little. Where his own dick and balls normally hang heavy between his legs, they instead are tucked up into the confines of his panties.

Every breath he takes makes him wiggle back into Daddy, makes him so very aware of how full he is, of how thick and heavy Daddy’s cock is in his pussy. He’s never once felt as much as he feels in this moment, entire form as sensitive as his ass is, practically vibrating out of his own skin.

“Tell me how it feels, sugar. Come on,” Steve commands in his ear and Bucky is so far gone he doesn’t even think, just responds with, “Feels so _big_ , Daddy s’like I’ve never been…never been fucked before, feelin’ so much.” Steve purrs, pulses his hips in little rolls, slides his hands deliciously down Bucky’s sides. It makes Bucky let out a happy noise, his own little purr of a sigh, makes him arch his neck roll his spine, makes him slide his arms up the table to grab onto the opposite edge.

“How s’it feel different, Princess?” Steve asks in a husky voice, _his Daddy voice_ , and Bucky mewls in response, a high and drawn out noise when Daddy starts to pull his hips back and press in.

“Feels so smooth, Daddy, so wet. Feels… _ngh_ feels so good, can feel you _everywhere_.” Steve presses hot kisses up Bucky’s neck, wet open-mouthed ones, leans his weight onto Bucky’s back as his hands slide down to grip his hips. Things are slow, savory, Steve setting a devastating pace, one that allows the two of them to soak in every second. The groan Daddy lets out into Bucky’s ear makes him want to giggle, makes him smile, makes him bring a hand down to his mouth so he can suck a few fingertips between his lips.

“Oh, _Buck_ look at ya—know that face, sugar. You’re feelin’ sweet, _fuck_ you’re feelin’ sweet.”

He is, he can feel it, can feel it in the base of his neck and his toes, feel it in his head. It isn’t overwhelming and it isn’t a full-on float but it’s ever-present, makes him relax on the tabletop beneath him, makes Daddy fucking into him feel that much better.

Bucky going sweet always does something to Daddy, always makes him go a little feral, makes him lose some control. He nibbles on the back of Bucky’s neck at the same time he pulls his hips back far enough to where just the tip is sheathed inside of Bucky’s hole and slides back in. It makes Bucky’s eyes roll some, makes him want to close them since he apparently is struggling to keep them open at all, makes him want to hold his breath so he doesn’t disrupt the sensation of feeling. Only the first true thrust is slow; every thrust after that one is much harder and much deeper, franticness bleeding out through Daddy’s actions.

“That’s it, Buck—lay there and let Daddy enjoy this sweet pussy, _let him fuckin’ use it,_ baby.”

It’s euphoric. It’s pleasurable for so many different reasons, takes his breath right out of his lungs, leaves him grunting out little sighs and whimpers with each of Daddy’s thrusts. He pushes his fingers a little deeper into his mouth, moans around them, sucks on them at the same time Daddy’s fingers dig into his sides. His body moves, bounces, with each thrust and smack of Daddy’s hips into his bottom, a jarring but comforting movement.

Bucky knows Daddy’s well-endowed, almost extremely so, but Bucky feels like Daddy’s cock is in his throat, feels so thoroughly fucked he can barely hear himself gasping, knows he might end up crying.

“ _Fuck,_ baby y’feel so sweet, so soft, Daddy can’t get enough. Daddy wants to fuck this pussy full, wants to fuck it ‘till it’s shakin’, sugar, _fuck_.”

“ _Daddy, oh_ ,” Bucky whimpers out, almost forgets about the fingers in his mouth, spreads his legs apart some on instinct upon hearing Daddy’s filthy words. Steve makes a grunt of affirmation, pulls back and off of Bucky’s body, fucks his cock into him a little deeper, a little faster. It all makes Bucky let out a whine before sticking his fingers back into his mouth.

“Daddy needs…wanna see that pretty face, Buck c’mere, _come on_ ,” Steve starts to say, grinds his hips in tight and hard one more time before pulling out slowly. He grabs for Bucky before he can process Daddy’s words, whines when his fingers are pulled from his mouth, when he’s lifted from the table. He thinks for a second that they’ll go to the couch but lets out a whimper of surprised when Steve turns and presses Bucky’s back into the carpeted floor, grabs for the lube and slicks his erection up some more.

Bucky loves being on his back, loves spreading his legs, loves when Daddy takes what he wants from Bucky, fucks him stupid. Steve grabs for his thighs, tosses them onto those deliciously broad shoulders, motion pressing his thighs together in a way that Bucky just _knows_ is going to wreck him, make everything slippery. The fabric of Steve’s clothes feels comforting and silken under his thighs, Daddy being fully clothed adding to the whole eroticism of the situation.

The fat head of Steve’s cock presses against his opening, his rim, at the same time Steve’s wide palms glide tenderly up his thighs, his shins, his lips turning and running along the ticklish skin of his ankles.

“Missed bein’ inside’a you while I was away, Buck, missed this pretty pussy _oh, honey_ ,” Steve murmurs against the skin of his foot, his ankle, as he presses back inside with a gutting slide, his hands grabbing at Bucky’s thighs, holding them close to his chest. The pressure feels so good it makes Bucky’s teeth ache, makes him roll his head back to arch his neck, makes his chest heave as he tries his hardest to not be swallowed up and completely overwhelmed.

Bucky’s sigh turns into a deep moan, Daddy’s cock filling him right back up beautifully, and he can’t help but subconsciously bring his fingers down to rub at his own nipples. Daddy notices immediately, encourages Bucky with sugary words, tells him to stick his fingers in his mouth and bring them back down to his chest, “There ya go, baby, pinch ‘em, rub those little pink— _yes, fuck.”_

Steve moves his hips and rolls his body with pointed grace, jean-sheathed shins gliding and bouncing along the carpet in order to fuck into Bucky intensely. The position has Bucky feeling like he has to make a noise with every thrust, his body having no choice but to need and utilize any source of release it can. His fingers pluck and roll over his nipples, them hardening under his own touch, little zaps of pleasure leading right to his dick, the dick he had forgotten was still wrapped up in sheer material and bows.

“ _Oh,_ Daddy m’wearin’ panties,” he slurs in disbelief, raises his head to glance down his body to watch his erection bounce against the front of his thong with every slap of Steve’s body into his own. The material is soaked through the front, an embarrassingly large stain pooled near the tip of his cock. He hears Daddy chuckle, a bubble of a noise, a mumble of something sweet, a kiss pressed against his ankle.

“Fuck yeah y’are, sweetness, wearin’ panties all for Daddy. Got a soft little pussy to go with it don’t ya, Buck?” Daddy asks and Bucky mewls.

“ _Mhmm_ , s’all for Daddy, all for you Daddy. Love how you fuck my…my pussy, Daddy,” Bucky moans, hands coming up to cup his neck, and Bucky feels himself lean into that sweet headspace more, both of them well aware of the fact that Bucky’s mouth runs when he’s feeling sweet and about to come. Steve’s groan turns into a little bit of a snarl and then he’s pushing Bucky’s legs off of his chest, spreads them wide at the ankles first and then runs his hands down the inside of Bucky’s thighs.

“Yeah, Buck? You a little slut for Daddy fuckin’ your pussy?” and Bucky would answer except he can’t, can’t move his thick tongue in a way that would produce words, just lays there and looks up at Daddy fucking into him. Bucky’s thighs drape over Daddy’s own, almost wrap around his narrow waist, hips tilted up and held tight at an angle that has him crying out into the air above him. 

“M’a little slut for it,” he sobs, bringing his fingers up to his mouth again, and Steve lets out a low groan that sounds like it’s been punched directly from his chest.

“I know you are, sugar bear—I love it. I love _you_ ,” Steve moans and Bucky joins him with his own cry, Daddy fucking into him once, twice, three times _hard_ , angle grazing and then pressing right into his sweet spot. Just like before, the urge and need to come sweeps over him in a rush of a movement, has him gasping and scrambling, leaning up on his elbows. He’s bent and contorted in such a way that him leaning up gives him the perfect line of sight to see his panties and to watch Daddy fuck into him.

“ _Oh fu—_ I’m…Daddy I wanna come, make this pussy come,” Bucky cries, watches Daddy’s eyes follow his cock, watching him fuck in and out of Bucky’s greedy hole. Daddy hums, brings a hand down to rub at Bucky’s cock and it’s messy, uncoordinated, squeezes and pulls and pats.

“Gonna fuckin’ cream those panties, Buck? You gonna make ‘em messy, baby? All messy for Daddy?” The questions make Bucky’s head drop back, so lightheaded he can’t hold himself up even for a second longer, makes him scramble for blind purchase until Steve mercifully leans down and follows Bucky as he presses him back into the carpet. Bucky digs his fingers into Daddy’s sweater, his hair, presses his lips sloppily into Steve’s own, nips at his bearded chin.

That hot coil of pleasure builds in his gut, in his balls, makes him arch his back so he can better bear down onto Daddy’s thick cock. The bump and grind of Steve’s stomach and torso onto his confined dick pushes Bucky that much closer to that cliff, makes him want to throw himself into his climax after being denied twice already.

“ _Daddy,_ wanna come please, can’t wait, _please—”_

“A’course, baby, wanna feel that pussy come, give it to Daddy,” but Bucky shakes his head frantically, wants to be good, wants Daddy to come too, that little subby part of his brain wanting to be used in such a way. In response, Steve nods his head, leans down to completely drape his body over Bucky’s much smaller one, fucking into him at a new angle. The angle makes the sound of Steve fucking into him almost make Bucky blush in its lewdness, so wet and so filthy.

He feels a hand on his hip, leans into the opposite hand on the side of his face like a cat. Steve coos at him, “Come, Bucky— _come on Daddy’s cock,_ ” gives him a sweet kiss, and there’s nothing Bucky can do to control or try to prevent his orgasm. He wails, sobs into Daddy’s open mouth, rips at the fabric of the sweater covering Steve’s back. Having been brought to the edge and pushed away from it twice already makes this orgasm feel like it’s sucking the absolute life out of Bucky, makes his thighs tremble underneath Daddy’s grip and form.

Steve’s mouth is at his ear, murmuring absolute filth into it, talking about Bucky’s pussy and how it feels coming around Daddy’s cock, _such a hungry little thing_. The waves of pleasure are almost too much, are almost painful, especially with how hard Daddy continues to fuck into him, but Bucky never wants it to stop. Daddy’s groaning and whispering about how he’s going to come, asks Bucky if he wants that, wants Daddy’s come to fill his pussy up.

He begs for it, squeals for it, weeps for it.

He can feel the sticky wet mess of his panties cling to his cock, knows he has to look like the filthiest thing Steve’s ever seen, but knows that alone might lend a hand to the eruption that is Daddy’s orgasm. Bucky holds on tight, moves his arms to wrap around Daddy’s neck, clings and clenches down on the thick cock inside of him. Steve’s noises are pressed right into the skin of Bucky’s neck, his shoulder, and Bucky wants to drink them in, wants to bottle them up and keep them forever.

“ _Fuck,_ baby love, _holy shit_ love you so much, _fuck_ …”

Daddy has a filthy mouth, never curses as much as he does when he’s inside of Bucky somehow, and it makes Bucky giggle, makes him bring his hands and run them through the hair on the back of Steve’s head. Steve pants onto the side of Bucky’s face, pumps his hips a few more lazy times, savoring the feeling Bucky is sure, and the final long groan Daddy gives makes Bucky’s dick twitch in a useless effort.

Bucky used to hate the parts of sex that came after an orgasm: the cleanup and the inevitable awkwardness and the shuffling around. Steve has taught Bucky how to love this part, how to live in and savor this glow, how to not rush your way out of it. Bucky loves the way he and Steve can lay there together, still intertwined, how they can catch their breath and clear away the foggy headspace of making love together, work back to reality as one. The soft touches, murmurs, and giggles are some of Bucky’s most cherished memories to date.

Bucky could have never guessed that the two of them would share this moment on the floor in Steve’s office, but a dirty part of his brain knew they’d christen it eventually. Bucky knows there is much to discuss, knows Steve will want to talk about how Bucky is feeling and how he came to this surprise decision, but that’s a conversation for when they’re home eating curled up on the couch and not when Bucky is coming back to reality and feeling soft.

Bucky’s giggle is somewhat contagious, makes Steve let out his own chuckle when he pulls back to look down at Bucky, to run his fingers down his face to his chin.

“You proud’a yourself, sugar bear?” he asks Bucky, voice a gruff whisper, hand squeezing at his curled hip. Bucky doesn’t even have to think when he goes to answer—

“Yes, Daddy— _very proud_.” Steve smiles some more, a beam of a thing, tilts Bucky’s chin up to kiss him sweetly.

“Good. You should be.”

Bucky can’t help but preen and blush in the fragile little state he’s in, duck his head some, to which Steve presses chaste kisses to his cheeks. Steve settles an elbow to the floor by Bucky’s head, settles into that syrupy post-orgasm glow the they’re quickly succumbing to. Looking at Steve, his features and his eyes and those rosy cheeks, reminds Bucky why he has come to love this part of sex so much.

“I missed you,” he whispers without thought, inner monologue spilling out, but Steve accepts it with open arms. His hand comes up, brushes his fingers across Bucky’s forehead, across his eyebrow all feather-like, the way he does when Bucky is sleepy.

“I missed you too, Buck. So much. M’not used to bein’ away from you for so long. I’m takin’ you with me next time.” Bucky giggles again, secretly hopes Steve is telling the truth and sweeps him away alongside him next time. The time apart wasn’t entirely awful, Bucky telling himself it’s healthy to be okay when your partner is gone, but it hurt to go to sleep alone each night, hurt to go some days without getting a call from Steve.

“I guess that wouldn’t be so bad,” Bucky ponders in a mocking way that makes Steve chuckle, makes him kiss Bucky softly again. They spend the next minute in silence breathing each other in, droopy eyelids and light smirks that tug on the corners of their lips. Bucky finds the fingers of one hand digging into Steve’s beard in his go-to comforting gesture.

“You want pizza for dinner?” Bucky hums.

“Had pizza last night. Indian?” This time it’s Steve’s turn to hum.

“ _Mmm_ , yeah. Indian. Can’t wait to get you home, wanna see you in my shirt and pretend to throw a fit.” Bucky’s heart does that thing where it simultaneously feels like it’s in his throat and in his tummy, where he knows he’s smiling like a goon and can’t help it.

He tilts his chin up, nips at Steve’s chin, kisses him on the lips.

“Good thing it’s already out and all worn-in from me wearin’ it this week. Might have to go digging around for another one,” and Steve gives him one of those looks that makes him feel like he’s floating away on a cloud.

“I’m sure I’ve got one for you somewhere, sugar…”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you loved! I love to hear from you: comments, kudos, love, kindly-worded critiques. 😘 Come follow me on [Tumblr](https://howdoyousleep3.tumblr.com/) !


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